Serial
by Danzinora Switch
Summary: Our heroes. On a planet full of serial killers. Need I say more?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, so recently (as in Monday) we turned in our Psychology midterm papers, and mine had been on serial killers. So for several months I've been researching serial killers and reading books, and one of the books I used as a source sounded suspiciously like a how-to book, only for serial killers! And then I was thinking 'man, if some wacko got a hold of this we'd be in serious trouble' when I thought of a circumstance like the one in 'A Piece of the Action' and thought 'shoot, what if a whole _planet_ adopted this book?' Thus, this story was born.**

**Happy Halloween.**

* * *

Kirk knew that being stuck inside the same walls for days and weeks and years on end could get very, very boring. To alleviate the tedium, he allowed simple decorations and celebrations among the crew for almost any holiday.

Especially Halloween.

Cobweb decorations as well as a few other spooky items were found in the rec room, halls, gym, and pretty much everywhere on the ship. There were even simple costumes, though the uniform was always worn, of course. Kirk passed a woman who walked by with zombie make-up decorating her whole face, but her red uniform and black boots stayed immaculate. He smiled to himself. It was the little things in life that made it great.

He reached his destination, Sickbay, and found that the nurses had taken over. Black and orange streamers lined a few tables, cut-out bats studded the walls and someone had moved McCoy's skull collection out into the open. Nurse Chapel walked by with tiger face-paint and another nurse wearing fairy wings over her uniform.

Kirk had seen stranger.

He found McCoy in his office, looking over a pad and wearing a cowboy hat. "Getting in the spirit of the season, Bones?" he joked, entering.

The doctor looked up from his seat and then glanced out at the main of Sickbay. "More like it sprung up around me."

Kirk chuckled. "Where'd you get the hat?"

Surprised, McCoy glanced up. "Oh, this. Chapel and Uhura got it for me on Centaurus."

"You asked them for a cowboy hat?"

McCoy narrowed his eyes at him. "No. I'm not sure why they bought it. All they said was that it had something to do with fantasies and three too many drinks."

Kirk considered this for a moment. "That might explain why they bought me a tricorn hat."

McCoy shrugged. "So, what can I help you with?"

"Just letting you know that we're beaming down on Occlutan shortly. Be at the transporter room in 15 minutes."

"Will do."

* * *

Occlutan seemed to be a normal planet still protected by the Prime Directive. However, aspects of their society confused Spock. Further research and censor scans revealed little evidence of a government, yet the whole place was a structured environment and gave no semblance of an anarchy. Doing research revealed that one other ship, the _Apex_, had visited the planet long before the Prime Directive. Spock was beginning to think that some form of contamination had occurred.

And so with a bit of prodding, he, Kirk, and McCoy were beaming down to investigate.

"This seems like a normal town," McCoy commented. They walked through a suburban development. Nobody was outside, though, despite the fair weather. "What exactly has got you on edge, Spock?"

"I am uncertain for the time being, Doctor," was the reply. Spock was busy with his tricorder. "Yet from the patterns observed it would seem impossible that these people could have worked together long enough to build-"

He was interrupted by a terrible yowling. They started to see a cat race by in front of them, screeching at the top of its lungs.

It was on fire.

"What the-!"

A little boy appeared from where the cat had. He was laughing so hard he could barely breathe. He stopped when he noticed the three men.

"Who are you?"

Kirk groped for words for a moment. "I'm… Kirk, he's Spock, and he's McCoy."

"Spock," the boy said, wrinkling his nose. "That's a funny name. Where'd you get it?"

"My parents," Spock said after a moment.

The boy glowered and he crossed his arms. "I know _that_, I'm not an idiot. If you want to be such a smart aleck then go get Baker to cut your tongue. It'll be twice the fun, then."

The men grew confused as the boy laughed a little more. "Twice the…" Kirk trailed. What did the kid mean by that?

The boy changed the subject. "Where ya from?"

"Oh, far away," Kirk said vaguely. "We're just passing through."

"Oh, travelers?" he brightened. He giggled some more, growing excited. "I'll get to see Harris go postal again!" He ran back behind the house, leaping over the bushes.

They stayed silent for a moment. "I'm worried about that child's parents, Jim," McCoy said.

Kirk nodded slowly. "Let's keep moving."

The left the neighborhood and walked further into town. Here there were people on the streets. Some examined store windows, others seemed to have a set destination in mind. It seemed normal, when there was a crash and an alarm started blaring.

They whirled and saw two people flee from a store with some items. The window had been smashed to pieces. There were some screams and curse words from the owner, but once they were out of sight he relaxed and simply started sweeping the broken glass away. The men glanced at each other and approached him.

"Sir," Kirk said. "Were, were you just robbed?"

The man looked up at them. "Yes, what's the matter with that?"

Kirk blinked. "Well, aren't you going to go after them?"

He chuckled. "No, I was the same at that age. Let them be. Besides, I can get robbery compensation, and my friend Denny will get paid from his job."

"What does Denny do?" Spock asked.

"He fixes windows." The man said so casually, so off the shoulder that it seemed the most natural thing in the world. He went back to sweeping the glass and they slowly backed down the street.

"Fascinating," Spock said. He observed the rest of the street. "The entire economy seems to be built around crime."

"That's not exactly a good thing, Spock," McCoy pointed out.

Kirk was looking somewhere else. "There's a restaurant, I wonder if they have a dine-and-ditch policy," he mused. They hurried over, noticing some cold stares from the pedestrians. Kirk pushed open the doors and walked in. And stopped cold.

"My, God…"

There were bodies hanging from the ceiling. There were _bodies hanging from the ceiling_. Some were complete, others had limbs missing or skin peeled off. Toes were stubs and teeth rotted. The ones with heads were suspended from a rope around their necks. The ones without heads were held up by their wrists, arms, knees, or whatever was left. Kirk tried not to gag.

A waitress came up. "Hello! Select your item and you can look at our menus on how you would like it prepared," she said sweetly.

"You can't be serious…" McCoy replied, feeling faint.

Her look turned disapproving. "You're new here?" she asked bluntly, all pretense of sweetness dropped.

Kirk could only nod.

She sighed and walked away from them, shaking her head. "Harris'll give us a show tonight," she muttered.

"Jim," McCoy said. "I think we should go."

"I agree." Kirk took out his communicator. "Kirk to- Spock, what are you doing?"

"I believe I have located the main town building on my tricorder. If there is a government, it would be there, or at least provide some answers."

"Answers!?" McCoy fumed. "These people are madmen! Do you really want to stay here longer than necessary?"

"Doctor, we have phasers and Starfleet training to protect ourselves from these people's… habits." He glanced back at the corpses.

"Spock, if all this is due to contamination," Kirk bit his lip against what he had to say next. "Then we need to fix it so… lead the way."

"Jim!"

"Bones, you can always beam back to the ship," he stated.

McCoy glanced back at the bodies. "No. No, somebody needs to make sure you two don't end up like that." He exited with them.

The walk to the townhouse was unnerving, to say the least. The unnatural silence was occasionally broken by a bloodcurdling scream. They saw at least two kidnappings and were powerless to prevent it- the cars sped off at breathtaking speeds. Several alleys were blood-splashed and they would occasionally find a piece of a person here and there. But nobody seemed to care.

The townhouse was practically empty. Spock found a mural depicting the history of the planet. There were images of farming Indians, the industrial age, and then some figures in interesting clothes.

"It must be the crew of the _Apex_," Kirk realized. The painting depicted shaking hands and several stacks of books. Kirk pointed at that. "They might have left one behind."

"Indeed." Spock looked beneath the painting as some documents in a glass case. One caught his eye. Peering closer, he read the title.

_Serial Killers, by Anthony Hopkins. Published 2256, 8__th__ Edition._

"Joy," McCoy said.

* * *

**I don't know any Anthony Hopkins's; it's just a random name I made up. I'm not totally satisfied with this chapter; it's really hard to write about a serial killer society (let's face it; it's self-destructive and they'll all kill each other). Maybe the next chapter will be better.**

**Also, depending on how the next chapter goes, the rating may go up to M. I'm still not sure just yet.**

**Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, first off, I have to say something. W-O-W. As in, W-H-O-A. I've seen a lot of reviews concerning the name 'Anthony Hopkins' and my made-up book & author, and I was very confused at first. Thank you, Pearlkat, for clearing it up! I literally had NO IDEA that Anthony Hopkins was a real guy, who played _Hannibal Lecter_ for crying out loud! All I thought was 'okay, Anthony's a pretty common guy name, and Hopkins is a pretty common last name so, here's the author for _Serial Killers_'. **

**I picked a serial killer to write a book about serial killers without knowing it!**

**I'm officially creeped out. Wow. Just, just wow. I did NOT see that coming, in a million years. Whoa. So um, no purposeful connection to the actor (whom I'm sure is a pretty nice guy), just the craziest coincidence in the world. Wow.**

* * *

The three men stood outside on the steps of the building. They weren't quite sure what to think. It seemed like the whole planet was ready to erupt against them. Finally, Kirk broke the silence.

"They can't _all_ be bad," he said. "What about the shopkeeper? He seemed alright…"

"One characteristic of psychopaths is extreme charisma. They are also known to be very rational, intelligent, impulsive, and unfeeling."

"Why, Spock, that sounds like you," McCoy said. "Except for the impulsive part."

Spock seemed unsure if that was a compliment or an insult. Knowing McCoy, it was probably both. He turned to Kirk. "Captain, this kind of society cannot survive. All of this was built before the contamination, and there has been no progress since then. They are slowly killing each other."

"And what can we do about it, Spock?" McCoy asked. "The entire planet is homicidal!"

"It doesn't have to be all at once," Kirk said, getting excited. "Don't you know- any movement can start with one person."

"So we just walk up to someone and say 'hey, don't kill anybody, spread the word'?" McCoy scoffed.

"Bones," Kirk warned.

McCoy sighed and glanced around. "I wish you wouldn't call me that… here."

They started walking back through the town. McCoy stopped short.

"What is it?" Kirk asked.

"It's a hospital," he said, bewildered. "Do you think it's still in use?"

"Bo-, McCoy, I don't know if we have the time."

"I could look," McCoy said. "If it's empty then nobody's there who might be dangerous."

Spock hesitated, then said "I shall accompany you, Doctor."

"Fine," Kirk said. "But only a couple minutes; I'll wait here outside and keep an eye on things. Call on your communicators if there's trouble."

The men nodded and moved off.

* * *

Kirk kept his back to the wall and a hand on his phaser. He didn't want anyone sneaking up behind him and cutting his throat. So he kept a sharp eye on the town.

One woman was lugging some furniture off the curb and into her store. She moved chairs and lamps, and then started dragging a big table. Kirk watched her. She was all by herself. Before he knew what was happening, he was across the street and lifting the other end. She flashed him a smile.

"Thank you, sir." They squeezed through the door and she backed over to a clear area near the piled chairs. "We can set it, wait, wait, down riiiiiight here." They dropped the table and stretched.

"You're welcome Miss…?"

"Jade," she said, sticking out a hand. "And you are?"

"James Kirk," he replied, grinning and shaking it. "Happy to help."

"Is that so?" she started arranging chairs around the table.

"Yep." He assisted her unstacking chairs and positioning them.

"Well, you do seem like a decent fellow."

He chuckled. "In the context, maybe. From what I've seen there aren't many decent fellows out there."

She laughed. "That's for sure."

Jade continued brushing things up around the small space. Kirk realized that this was a perfect opportunity to plant the seed of goodness.

"You a, work here alone?" he asked casually.

She looked around. "For now. Just moving in; I'm starting a business here."

"That's fantastic. What business?"

Jade glanced slyly over her shoulder. "A new type. Call it an enterprising experiment. In fact," she grabbed a rag and started wiping her hands with it. "You can be my first customer."

"Really?"

"Yup." She beckoned him mischievously. "Come see what I've got in the back."

Kirk followed her to a door and she pushed it open. It was dim so he stepped closer; squinting to see.

That was when he felt the cloth suddenly whip over his nose and mouth.

"Nighty-night," Jade whispered as he slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

McCoy found the abandoned hospital the creepiest so far. Room after room was blood-splattered and empty. In several he found body parts that seemed to litter the town. On one bed there was still a foot attached in a restraint.

"Spock, this isn't a hospital, it's a torture house," he called, stepping out of another 'operating room'. When silence met his ears he called again. "Spock?"

No answer.

McCoy fingered his communicator, but decided to check the last room he had seen the Vulcan enter. Cautiously, he pushed open the door.

The room was filled with jars. And in those jars were eyeballs.

The eeriness raised hairs on the back of his next. He definitely felt like he was being watched. There were dozens and dozens of them, everywhere in jars, floating in some kind of liquid that preserved them. Gulping, he backed out of the room. He eased the door closed and turned around.

A man was there.

McCoy shouted and jerked in surprise then started calming his breathing. The man- about his age, probably older- rocked back on his heels, leering.

"Did I frighten you?"

"Yeah, a little bit."

"Oh," he smiled.

McCoy glanced around, still trying to calm his racing heart from the fright. "Well," he said. "I'd better… get going."

"Okay," the man said. He still didn't change his smile. McCoy started inching down the wall to get around him; not daring to turn his back on the stranger.

"So soon?" he said abruptly. McCoy stopped.

"Yes."

"It's a pity," he said. "I like you."

And then he lunged with an outstretched knife.

They crashed to the ground. McCoy's phaser went skidding across the hall. He fought against the unexpected assault, twisting and kicking. He got his knees under him and started to dart away when he felt a searing pain behind and below his right knee. He cried out when his weight gave way; collapsing. The man was on him again, pinning him on his back. The bloodied knife clattered next to his head. McCoy saw that he now held something else in his hand. It looked like- an ice cream scooper?

The man traced the utensil along the curve of McCoy's eye. "These are very pretty," he cooed. "They might be my favorite out of my whole collection."

Understanding dawned on McCoy. This was not good. Mustering his strength, he screamed.

"SPOOOCK!"

* * *

Spock was further down the hall, around a corner, and in a triage room when he heard McCoy yell his name. Already running, he grew even more concerned when the cry was cut short. He drew his phaser and rounded the bend.

McCoy and a man were struggling on the floor. The man had one hand wrapped around the doctor's throat and another was holding something. McCoy was using all his strength to keep that item away from him.

Spock aimed carefully and fired. The bolt hit the man across the side and he was flung over, unconscious. The item clattered to the floor next to a knife.

"Doctor, are you alright?" he asked, hurrying to his side.

"Yeah- yes, I am now. Was going to be a lot worse," McCoy grunted. He rolled up his pant leg and Spock noticed blood.

"Damn fool hamstrung me."

"Are you able to walk?" Spock asked.

McCoy examined the wound a bit further, twisting to get a look at it. "Dunno. Some tendons got snipped otherwise I could just use the dermal regenerator and be good to go." Spock helped him up and he winced, testing the weight on his leg. "What I wouldn't give for a walking stick."

Spock retrieved McCoy's phaser as he leaned against the wall and returned to assist the doctor.

"Spock, I've had about enough of this planet," McCoy said as they started off. "Let's get Jim and get out of here."

"Agreed."

* * *

When Kirk came to he struggled to remember where he was. The events of the store came flooding back to him, and he jerked when he realized he was strapped to a table.

The same table he helped Jade bring in.

As he struggled against his bonds he heard someone _tsking_ behind him. "Oh, dear, is poor James stuck? Is the strong man subdued and helpless?"

"What is the meaning of this?" he demanded.

Jade walked closer to where he could see her. "Think you can get fresh with me?" she hissed dangerously. "Men aren't the only ones who can do what they want. And I want to do many things to you."

It definitely wasn't a strange innuendo, Kirk decided. She sounded like she wanted to murder him. Considering the planet, she probably did.

"Then why are you waiting?" Kirk knew that was probably the wrong thing to say, but she was just standing there.

"I've only _just_ opened the store, James," she drawled. "I'm not going to do anything I can't get money out of." She walked over and started rummaging through some stuff, humming to herself. "Make yourself comfortable," she tossed over her shoulder. "We've got to wait for a good-sized paying crowd, of course."

Oh, this wasn't good.

Kirk strained against the restraints. Jade laughed. "Amazing how anyone can become so weak and powerless under such ordinary measures. You'll be struggling against those a lot more in a little bit." She started holding whatever she was toying with up to the light so he could see it. His heart sank as a variety of tools- including clamps, hammers, scalpels, screwdrivers, saws, knives, spoons, and a few others he didn't want to look at- were set aside on a tray. He instead tried to think; what was Jade's game?

One characteristic of serial killers is the need to dominate and control their victim.

Well, she had that down pat. Kirk glumly realized that he didn't know where his communicator and phaser were. He apparently was also going to be tortured for an audience.

Spock did say this place ran on crime.

Where was Spock? Were he and Bones okay? Would they find him? He started to thrash, seeing if he could knock something lose that he could use.

"You're welcome to try," Jade hummed. "But it won't work." She returned to his side and contemplated him.

"You're going to be my first one," she said. "Well, for business, that is. Should I give them a show? I like toes. Fingers and toes, though if too many fingers are gone some can just slip right out of the restraints. Toes are easier. You can burn them off, chop them off, twist them off, break them off… and none of it is fatal. That means you can play even more." She leaned close. "I think I'll start with your toes. And then some fingers, here and there. I also like ears, and," she glanced down slyly. "Other things."

Good God.

* * *

"Where is he?" McCoy asked. He was still leaning on Spock as they surveyed the empty area outside the hospital.

"One moment, Doctor." Spock wriggled out his communicator and adjusted some settings. "His communicator's signal is coming from that direction." He pointed to a store across the street.

"But he's not answering it," McCoy said grimly. "He's probably in trouble."

"Doctor, are you able to make it?" Spock asked.

"We've got to get Jim, I'll manage."

They trudged up to the store and crouched near a window. They peeked through, and what they saw made their hearts grow cold.

"Jim!"

They didn't even need to think when it came to seeing their friend strapped to a table. Spock burst open the door and lurched to the right as a knife went skidding by his ear. McCoy, lower down because it was hard to stand with his leg, managed to go unnoticed for a few more seconds, and used the time to stun the knife-throwing lady. She collapsed with a shriek.

"Your timing is wonderful," Kirk called to them. McCoy eased his way over to where Spock was undoing the restraints and helped. Kirk sat up and eyed his makeshift bandage. "Trouble?"

"Let's go home, Jim."

Spock reappeared out of the back room where he had located Kirk's communicator and phaser in a drawer. He looked past them.

"Captain, something seems to be occurring outside."

They whirled around and saw a lot more people out on the streets. They were congregating on the sidewalks and seemed to be waiting for something. They hesitantly walked out and stood in front of the store. No one seemed to notice them. Spock noticed the little boy from earlier duck behind a postal box, cackling quietly. The setting sun cast long, eerie shadows everywhere.

There was a murmur through the crowd and they saw a man walking down the street. He was singing softly to himself, seemingly oblivious to their presence. Kirk grabbed the boy's collar as he darted by to a new hiding place.

"Kid, who is that?" he growled.

The boy chuckled at them. "Harris is here."

* * *

**Okay, so this is a lot darker. Happy Halloween! I think I should probably change the rating to M... yeah, I need to go do that. This certainly isn't for the faint of heart. And Minecraft Guardiansaiyan, I agree with you... I hope nobody's too terribly traumatized.**

**Also, shout-out to my friend who's got a cameo! She's not really a serial killer, honest...**

**I don't own Star Trek- this goes for the whole story. Thanks y'all for reviewing (and clearing up Anthony Hopkins... Golly!). I'm very happy you're enjoying this. Feel free to continue reviewing!**


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I SHALL EXTEND HALLOWEEN! Seriously though, thanks everyone for reviewing this sadistic, creepy, story. The end is near.**

* * *

"NO! I don't want to!" the man- Harris- suddenly shouted. "This excitement, this _excitement_- don't do that! Isn't it enough?" He cringed and grasped his head- though it looked to be out of frustration rather than pain.

"What's going on?" McCoy asked quietly.

"Charlie's talking to him. It won't be long now." The boy freed himself from Kirk and slunk closer to the curb to watch.

The man was trembling all over. His limbs shook so violently with some repressed emotion, or urge, that it looked like he was in his own private earthquake. "Stop it…" he moaned.

There was a flurry of motion and the crowd grasped the one closest to them- Spock- and flung him out into the street.

Harris snapped.

"STRANGER DANGER!" he freaked and bowled the surprised Vulcan over. McCoy and Kirk instantly ran out to the struggling two, and saw some signs of green blood.

Spock was aware that Harris had some very sharp instrument with him- it was digging into his abdomen. Despite his Vulcan strength Harris held on. Psychotic individuals were known to seem impervious to pain, and Harris was in a sort of rage that granted him exceptional strength. Spock fought for a grip on his neck as the maniac tore into him.

"Spock!"

Something plowed into them and Spock realized it was Kirk. He rolled away, sucking in air as he and Harris rolled around. Quickly, he scrambled to his feet and gripped the junction of Harris' neck and shoulder. The man gave a cry, struggled unnervingly, and then went limp. Kirk pushed him off of him.

"You alright, Spock?"

"Merely grazes, Captain."

"You let me be the judge of that," McCoy griped, hobbling up to them. His leg was bleeding even more from the movement. "We're going to Sickbay _now_. Jim!"

"Believe me, I know," Kirk eyed the bloodthirsty crowd and whipped out his communicator. "Scotty, beam us up immediately. Now!"

The last thing they saw of the planet was the crowd lunging for them.

* * *

" 'Grazes' my ass," McCoy grumbled, running a regenerator over Spock. "Since when do nine different stab wounds count as _grazes_?"

"Doctor, are you sure you should be standing?"

McCoy had only taken a coag shot and applied new bandages to his leg before setting to work on Spock. "Hey," he said sternly. "I'm the doctor here."

"As you are so fond of pointing out."

McCoy grumbled to himself and finished sealing Spock up. "Now, this may be hard, but I want you to lie still for 3-4 hours, okay? Your body's got to adjust having everything back where it was."

"Doctor, I feel quite alright. If I may return to the br-"

"You may _not!_" he interrupted sternly. "You feel fine because of that Vulcan training and hypo I shot you with. Now before I pull medical rank, I'll tell you again. Stay _on that biobed_ for at least _3 hours!_"

Spock blinked.

McCoy sighed. "Okay, Nurse, let's get started." Chapel swooped out from her position and brought the necessary tools over to treat McCoy's leg.

As they sealed tendons and skin, Spock contemplated the hierarchy of Sickbay. McCoy was the supreme authority, but Chapel also apparently had some leverage. Lethal leverage. He made note of that as she sternly also told the chief medical officer to stay in bed for a couple hours.

* * *

**Captain's Log, Stardate 4328.6: We are leaving orbit of Occlutan, in due haste I might add. Dr. McCoy and First Officer Spock are in Sickbay treating their injuries; I myself suffered no wounds, though very nearly became torture victim. Since returning to the ship I have dispatched a notice to Starfleet that all ships avoid Occlutan for their own sakes. It is a highly dangerous planet with a destructive people. Under no circumstances should anyone beam down there ever again.**

* * *

It's practically done! Thanks again, y'all, for reviewing. This story was never going to be terrible long. Golly, you've got McCoy in trouble, Kirk in trouble, then _Spock_ in trouble and it still somehow turns out alright!

It should be noted that this is a dramatized work of serial killers. They are not all homicidal maniacs. Harris is based off of Joseph Kallinger, who was a psychotic, visionary-oriented serial killer who claimed that a large, floating head with tentacles named Charlie instructed him to kill people and cut up their... parts.

Anyways, thank you for reviewing! And don't get sick from eating too much candy! ;)


	4. Bonus!

**A/N: I have to include this. I just can't resist.**

* * *

James Kirk of the ISS _Enterprise_ surveyed the town. Beside him was Mr. Spock, who coldly viewed the citizens. They were certainly interesting. The children enjoyed playing in cemeteries and lighting things on fire, crime was legal, and they had enjoyed a torture show from a lovely lady's store. Body parts littered the streets and a psychotic maniac named Harris was ravaging someone with a knife. They had dropped Bones off at the hospital, where he had seemed practically giddy over their methods.

"Well, Mr. Spock?" Kirk asked. He was done waiting for his first officer's opinion.

"I agree," Spock said.

Kirk grinned his shark-tooth smile. "I knew you would." He looked back across the town. "Occlutan," he murmured. "Welcome to the Empire."


End file.
